Lessons Learned
by Telperion
Summary: Jack confesses his feelings to Daniel, but their problems are only just beginning... Slash.


Disclaimer: Jack, Daniel, and the rest of the SGC belong to MGM et al. I'm just borrowing them for a while, more's the pity.

Spoilers: 'The Gamekeeper', minor mentions of 'Forever In A Day', 'Need', 'Legacy'.

Lessons Learned

Jack stood outside Daniel's apartment block and stared up at the building through the darkness, looking for a sign that his team-mate was inside. Sure, the lights were on in Daniel's apartment – a line of five golden rectangles on the fourth floor – but that didn't necessarily mean that Daniel was home. It wouldn't be unlike the good doctor to hurry out of the apartment one morning on his way to the base and forget to turn the lights, and indeed any other electrical appliances, off on the way.

However, as he watched Jack saw a shadow approach the second window from the left and twitch the curtains, making sure there was no gap between the hanging pieces of fabric. It was an odd quirk of Daniel's, but he preferred there to be no darkness from the outside showing between his drapes.

The movement proved that Daniel was indeed home, but Jack didn't know whether to be relieved or dismayed by this outcome. He needed to talk to Daniel, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't be very welcome at the moment.

Earlier, Jack had committed the cardinal sin of once again interrupting Daniel during one of his debriefing explanations. He would have thought that Daniel would be used to this by now – the archaeologist normally couldn't get through a sentence in one of his lectures without Jack interjecting some kind of caustic comment. Carter never seemed to have a problem with her CO's interruptions – she always appeared to chalk it up to 'the Colonel being impatient again', and tolerantly re-explained herself in layman's terms so that O'Neill could understand her.

But Daniel always seemed to take the disruptions to heart, as if he thought that Jack considered his input irrelevant. Which was wasn't the case at all. In fact, Jack always found Daniel's – and Carter's – contributions to be extremely relevant. He just didn't like the fact that they almost always made him feel stupider than he actually was. The Colonel was in no way unintelligent, but all the talk of the symbology of ancient cultures and the differing Goa'uld dialects, not to mention the quantum physics that Carter spouted most of the time, made him feel like a dumb hick sometimes.

Today, however, had been particularly bad. Jack's ill-timed sarcasm had caused Daniel to scowl, slam his notebook shut, and refuse to say another word during the whole debriefing. This had earned the Colonel some extremely annoyed glares from General Hammond, and some slightly mystified ones from Carter. Teal'c, of course, had remained completely expressionless throughout the whole exchange, with not even a raised eyebrow to indicate his thoughts.

Immediately after the debriefing, Daniel had gathered up his notebook and papers and left, still without another word to anyone. By the time Jack had endured a dressing down from the General, and another lecture from Carter, Daniel had left the base altogether, heading for the sanctuary of his apartment.

Which was why Jack was now standing in the street, debating the wisdom of rousing the ire of one very pissed off archaeologist. Eventually, he decided that putting it off would only make matters worse, and that he really needed to apologise to Daniel right now, or risk putting a permanent dent in their friendship. Sighing, Jack squared his shoulders and marched across the road to Daniel's apartment.

* * *

Daniel had known that Jack was outside for the past thirty minutes, ever since he had happened to be closing his curtains at the same time as Jack's truck pulled up under the streetlamp directly opposite his apartment block. A twitch to the drapes half-an-hour later had shown him that his team leader was still standing outside, apparently unable to decide whether he was brave enough to face Daniel or not. 

However, when eventually there was a knock on his door, an unsurprised Daniel rose to answer it. Like Jack, he had wondered whether now was a good time for the two of them to be talking but, apparently also like Jack, he had in the end decided that there were things that needed to be said.

As Daniel opened his front door, Jack marched through it without even waiting for an invitation from the archaeologist. Even though he was angry with Jack, Daniel couldn't help but smile a little at the military man's attitude. As with everything, once Jack had put his mind to something, he was determined to get on with it as quickly as possible.

And, standing in Daniel's living room, Jack did indeed look like he wanted to 'get on with it'. Daniel could practically hear Jack's prepared speech before he had even begun to utter it. It would go something like: "I'm sorry about today, yadda, yadda, yadda, realise you make a valuable contribution, blah, blah, blah, but you need to understand how the military works, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera."

Holding up his hand to halt the pointless flow of words before it began, Daniel gestured for Jack to sit on the couch. "Do you want a beer?" he asked mildly.

Jack's eyes widened – only fractionally, and only for a second, but it was enough to tell Daniel that he had surprised the other man. Clearly, he was not the only one expecting to be on the receiving end of a prepared lecture.

But the surprise vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and Jack nodded, relaxing back into the couch as Daniel fetched the drinks from the kitchen. He had been a little thrown by the archaeologist's friendliness, expecting instead to be hit by a tirade of vehement, but extremely well thought-out, abuse. On the whole, though, it would probably be better if they could have an at least civil, if not friendly, conversation, rather than a shouting match that would stir up more bad feeling, and would invariably end with Jack storming out.

Daniel returned with the beers and handed one to Jack, before perching himself on the arm of the second couch, his own drink dangling from his fingers. Jack had to resist the urge to lean forward and be ready in case the bottle slipped from Daniel's grasp. Really, sometimes Daniel seemed to have no sense of how precarious things could become. And that was part of the problem.

"I know we have things to talk about, Jack," said Daniel suddenly, interrupting the slightly awkward silence that had fallen between the two men. He smiled ruefully, and then ran his hand through his hair before adjusting his glasses. "I'm just not sure where to begin, that's all."

"Then let me start," replied Jack. "Don't worry, no prepared speech," he added, upon seeing Daniel's slightly apprehensive look. "I just want to say I'm sorry – again. I seem to be saying that to you a lot lately," he finished, smiling his own faint smile.

"But why, Jack?" asked Daniel quietly. "Why do you have to say it so much? What is it about me that suddenly makes you want to behave towards me in a way that needs apologising for?"

"It's nothing about you. Nothing new, anyway. It's not you at all, in fact. It's me. Biggest cliché in the book, but it's true. I'm the one who's changed, not you. And I can't deal with it."

"But what's changed about you, Jack? As far as I can tell, all that's happened is that you've become more irritable, more heavy-handed, and more arrogant."

Jack let out a sigh. "Don't hold back, Daniel. Tell it like it is."

"Sorry, Jack. But from my point-of-view, that's what _has_ happened. And it's not been very pleasant for me. I need to know what's going on."

Abruptly, Jack got up off the couch and started pacing. Clearly, they had strayed into uncomfortable territory. Jack obviously didn't want to talk specifically about what was bothering him. The furrow in his brow, the set of his jaw, and the hunch of his shoulders all told Daniel that Jack would be far happier if he could just apologise, and leave it at that.

But Daniel wasn't having that. He'd heard far to many of Jack's 'apologies' lately, and to be honest, he was beginning to have a hard time believing they were sincere. He needed to get to the bottom of this, otherwise he and Jack were going to find it difficult to work together in the future, a thought that made Daniel's gut twist when it occurred to him. He and Jack might have their differences, but they were the original members of the Stargate Program – the first two people to step through the Gate and experience life on another planet. If he wasn't on Jack's team, he might as well quit the SGC altogether. For reasons he couldn't quite identify, Daniel felt like he and Jack belonged together, working – and fighting – side by side.

Which was why he was pushing so hard for answers now, no matter how much Jack didn't want to give them. "Jack?" he prodded, when the other man's pacing continued unabated.

The insistence in Daniel's tone finally halted Jack's journey to and fro across the room. Daniel distinctly heard a muttered "oh, for crying out loud", before Jack turned around to face him.

"Daniel, you really don't want to do this," Jack warned. "You have no idea what a can of worms you'll be opening. Trust me, it's better to let things lie."

Daniel said nothing, simply staring at Jack stubbornly.

"Oh, for crying out loud." This time the trademark catchphrase was uttered a little more vehemently, as if Jack had finally realised that Daniel wasn't going to back down, and he was going to have to explain himself whether he liked it or not. "Fine. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

But he didn't immediately say anything else, and Daniel sighed with impatience. What on earth could be so hard to say?

"It's like this," Jack began suddenly. "There's a reason I've been so short-tempered with you lately. A very good reason." He paused. "I've been trying to create some distance between us," he finished in a rush.

Daniel frowned. 'Trying to create some distance.' What the hell did that mean? And why was Jack trying to create it?

"Look, Jack," he said slowly, trying to puzzle it out in his head as he went along. "If you don't want me on your team any more, you only have to say. I mean, sure, it'll be a bit of an adjustment, but…" A bit of an adjustment – ha! The notion made Daniel feel like someone had punched him in the gut.

Jack looked horrified. "No, Daniel, that's not what I meant at all," he said hurriedly. "There's no way I want you off SG-1. Quite the opposite, actually. Which is kinda the problem." But when Daniel still looked mystified, Jack knew he was going to have to elaborate further and spill the whole truth, something he had been trying to avoid doing for quite some time now.

"The reason I've been pulling away from you recently is because I felt like I was getting too close. Way too close."

But Daniel was still giving off the impression that he didn't have a clue what Jack was talking about.

"Ah, crap. Look, you won't know this, but back in college, before I joined the Air Force, I used to kinda bat for the other team, if you know what I mean."

Realisation dawned. "Oh," said Daniel. "You're right, I didn't know that…" And then, suddenly, everything clicked. "_Oh_. Oh, my god. Are you saying that…?"

Jack looked unhappy. "Yep," he confirmed. "I may have had to put aside the lifestyle when I joined the military, but I can't just put aside the feelings. And lately those feelings have been kinda, sorta…directed at you."

Daniel's mind was spinning. Jack was gay? Jack had a thing for men? Jack had a thing for _him_?

"So you see," continued Jack, "since I didn't want to go and do anything stupid, I decided it would be better if I tried to create some professional distance between us. Try and keep things cool, you know?"

"Uh…yeah…sure…whatever." Daniel seemed to be having a hard time stringing a sentence together, and despite the circumstances Jack couldn't help directing a fond look at his archaeologist. Daniel was normally so articulate, but throw him for a loop and all of his twenty-five languages went flying out the window.

Daniel noticed the look Jack was sending in his direction, and with a supreme mental effort pulled himself together. He couldn't afford to let this situation slip away from him. Hell, he wasn't even sure he knew what the situation _was_, exactly.

"So, let me get this straight," he said slowly, ordering things in his mind as he went. "You've developed feelings for me, and in order to hide them, you've been acting like you can't stand the sight of me any more."

"Well, I wouldn't put it quite like that, but…"

Suddenly, Daniel was angry. Jack said he cared, but he had a damn funny way of showing it. "Basically, to cover your own ass, you've done everything you can to hurt me, the person you claim to care about," Daniel retorted, cutting Jack off mid-sentence.

Jack gaped. Surely that was taking a rather one-dimensional view of things? And yet… Thinking about it, Jack supposed that Daniel's assessment of the situation wasn't actually that far off the mark after all. In fact, he'd pretty much hit the nail on the head.

"Daniel, I…"

"Save it, Jack. I don't want to hear it."

"Daniel…" But it was no good. Jack suddenly realised he was talking to Daniel's back, as the other man stalked off towards the kitchen.

* * *

Daniel slammed into the kitchen, setting the swing door flapping so violently on its hinges that he was surprised it didn't fall off. He couldn't believe Jack. The arrogance of the man! All that stuff about 'not leaving a team-mate behind' was clearly bullshit. When you got right down to it, Jack obviously only cared about himself. 

And yet, why did Daniel care so much? He and Jack hadn't exactly been close lately – all thanks to Jack, of course. So why did it bother him so much what Jack said or did?

And then he realised – that was exactly the point. He and Jack weren't close any more, and Daniel missed the other man. They had been pretty nearly inseparable at one time in their lives, and now they weren't. And to discover that this was because of something Jack had done deliberately was like a slap in the face. Daniel could accept the possibility of a natural drifting apart. These things happened. But Jack had done it on purpose, because he was afraid.

But what was he afraid of? Being found out by the SGC? No, that couldn't be it. Jack had been part of more top-secret missions than Daniel had had hot dinners. Hell, wasn't the Stargate Program the most secret mission of them all? Jack could keep a secret if his life depended on it. Which it frequently did.

So, what? What was he afraid of? That Daniel would reject him? That Daniel would push him away in disgust? That Daniel would…

Abruptly, Daniel put the brakes on his swirling thoughts. Would he have rejected Jack? Okay, so Jack didn't know the answer to that question, but he could have asked. But would _Daniel_ have been able answer? Daniel suddenly realised that he didn't know, either. Sure, he knew that he had missed Jack a lot over the past few months, and sure, at one point in the past he and Jack had been practically joined at the hip, but did he have feelings for Jack? The same kind of feelings as Jack professed to have for him? He didn't know.

"Damn!" Daniel swore loudly, slamming his practically untouched bottle of beer down on the kitchen work surface. There was a tinkling sound as the glass shattered, and then Daniel felt cold liquid flow over his hand, followed by a lancing pain across his palm.

* * *

Out in the living room, Jack heard the smash of breaking glass, followed by the sound of running water. Worried, he rose from the couch and walked over to the kitchen door. 

However, once there, he paused. Daniel had made it pretty clear that he didn't want Jack around, and the only thing that had stopped Jack leaving was some vague, unformed hope that Daniel's highly trained intellect might change its mind about its decision.

Therefore, Jack wondered if going into the kitchen might not be the stupidest thing he had ever done. However, a string of rather loud Abydonian curses made the decision for him. Daniel had clearly done himself an injury, and Jack wanted – no, _needed_ – to help him.

Entering the kitchen, Jack saw Daniel standing by the sink with his hand swathed in a towel. Even from a distance Jack could see that the towel was already stained bright red, and that Daniel's face was twisted with pain. Striding over, he put out his hand.

"Let me see."

"No."

Daniel, let me see."

Daniel scowled, but then reluctantly held out his wrapped hand.

Gently, Jack unwound the towel, trying to ignore Daniel's hisses of pain. Uncurling Daniel's fingers from around the injury, he inspected the damage. There was a large gash across Daniel's palm, from which blood was continuously welling, and showing no signs of stopping.

"This is going to need stitches."

"Jack, I really don't think…"

"Don't argue with me, Daniel. You need to get this looked at. I'm taking you to the ER."

"Can't we go see Doctor Fraiser instead?"

"The hospital is closer. And besides, I don't think Fraiser would be particularly pleased if we woke her up at this time of night just to deal with a few stitches."

Daniel darted a swift glance at the clock, surprised to see that it was after midnight. "Oh, alright,' he conceded. "Hospital it is."

* * *

Manoeuvring his truck through the quiet streets of Colorado Springs, Jack risked the occasional sideways glance at Daniel, sitting next to him in the passenger seat. Frankly, he was a little surprised that Daniel had agreed to come with him to the hospital, especially since a very short time previously Daniel had been looking at him with murderous intent in his eyes. Maybe things would alright, after all. 

Having said that, the fact that Daniel had not spoken to, or even looked at, him once throughout the entire drive did not bode well. By the time they reached the hospital Jack was forced to concede that perhaps he had a little more work to do on repairing his relationship with Daniel.

Once in the ER, Jack sat Daniel in one of the uncomfortable-looking plastic chairs while he dealt with all the necessary forms and questions. He had expected a little more resistance from Daniel at this point, but the archaeologist seemed perfectly content to sit and wait while Jack did all the legwork. The expression on Daniel's face was starting to make Jack a little nervous. He had that look he got when he was working through a particularly difficult problem. And since Jack himself was the most recent problem Daniel had been presented with, it didn't take any huge leaps of logic to work out that Daniel was considering what to do about the situation with his team leader.

Jack was glad that Daniel was thinking the problem through instead of just yelling at him, but all the same he wasn't sure that he was looking forward to the result of Daniel's ruminations. When it came to Daniel you could never predict what the outcome might be.

Having filled in all the relevant forms, handing them to Daniel to sign as best he could with his left hand, Jack sat himself in a chair opposite Daniel and tried not to fidget as he watched the other man cogitate. However, he must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew Daniel was standing over him, saying his name and once again looking at him like killing him was quite an attractive proposition.

"Jack!"

"Wha-what?!"

"Are you going to take me home or do I have to call a cab?"

"Home? You mean you're all done?"

Daniel sighed in exasperation. "Yes, Jack. Thirteen stitches, to come out in two weeks. Not exactly my most terrible injury to date."

"Are you sure you're alright?" But Jack was talking to thin air. Daniel had turned and was walking out of the ER, clearly expecting Jack to follow. With a sigh of his own Jack levered himself out of his chair, wincing as his muscles protested at the cramped position they had been forced to endure. He and Daniel obviously needed to talk some more, but it was equally obvious that Daniel had decided that now was not the time.

* * *

The journey back to Daniel's apartment was as silent as the one to the hospital had been. When Jack pulled up outside Daniel's block, Daniel got out of the truck without a backward glance. 

"Daniel, I…" But Jack was cut off by the slamming of the truck door. He watched as Daniel crossed the street and entered his apartment block, debating whether to follow or not. But something told him that that would only earn him another tirade, and possibly even a black eye. One never knew with Daniel.

Sighing, Jack put the truck back in gear and roared off down the street.

* * *

Entering his apartment, Daniel shut the front door and then leant against it, grateful for the support it provided. The events of the evening, combined with the blood loss from his hand, had left him feeling a little light-headed, at the same time as giving him a pounding headache. 

He hadn't been able to stop thinking about the situation between him and Jack the entire time he'd been at the hospital. So preoccupied had he been that he'd barely felt the doctor stitching up his hand, and had only just registered the nurse's instructions to keep the dressings clean and dry.

And he was still no closer to a conclusion. He still didn't know what he truly felt about it all. The lack of resolution was beginning to drive him crazy.

Slowly, Daniel pushed away from the door and shuffled over to the couch. Flopping down, he stared at the ceiling and once again tried to reason everything through. One, Jack was gay. Two, Jack had never said anything about it to anyone. Three, Jack had feelings for him. Four…

Wait, what about point number three? That was the part of the equation that Daniel hadn't properly considered as yet. Forget that Jack had hidden his sexuality, that he had hurt Daniel, and that he had finally decided to come clean. Jack had _feelings_ for him, Daniel. What did that mean, exactly? That he gazed lovingly at Daniel when he thought Daniel wasn't looking? That he always wanted to be near Daniel? That he fantasised about Daniel in bed? Daniel felt his face heat up at that thought, and quickly turned his mind to other matters.

Just how long had Jack felt this way? Weeks? Months? Years? Wait, hadn't he said earlier that his feelings had only recently been directed at Daniel? But what did that mean? Had the feelings only recently developed, or had Jack only recently seen them for what they were?

Daniel shook his head in frustration, exacerbating his headache further. This was getting him nowhere. He was going in circles. Tiredly, he snagged a bottle of aspirin off the coffee table and dry-swallowed a couple. The nurse at the hospital had given him something for the pain in his hand, so he shouldn't really be taking any more medication. But the pain in his head was making it difficult to think, and he really needed to concentrate, to work out what he was going to do.

However, the combination of revelation, pain, and medication had tired him out more than he thought, and a few minutes later, despite the whirlwind in his head, Daniel was sound asleep on the couch.

* * *

The jangling of the phone woke him four hours later. Blinking groggily, he reached out and grabbed the receiver from its cradle. 

"Daniel Jackson."

"Daniel, it's Sam. General Hammond has requested that we come into the base this morning. Something to do with yesterday's mission to P3X-575. Is that a problem?"

Daniel grimaced. SG-1 was supposed to be on downtime for the next three days. The last thing he needed was to drag himself into the base, particularly in his present state. His hand was throbbing, as was his head, and his nap on the couch had done nothing to refresh him. Besides which, going to the base would mean he would have to see Jack, something that he wasn't sure he was up to at the moment.

But he said none of that to Sam. "Sure, Sam. What time does the General want to see us?"

"0830. Do you want me to swing by and pick you up?"

Daniel considered. He really wasn't in a fit state to drive anywhere. "That would be great, Sam. Give me half-an-hour to have a shower and a cup of coffee."

"No problem, Daniel. See you in thirty minutes." And Sam hung up.

His grimace back, Daniel heaved himself off the couch and headed for the shower.

* * *

0825 saw three members of SG-1 sitting in the briefing room, waiting for their fourth and for General Hammond. Daniel, Sam, and Teal'c looked at each other across the table, each wondering where Jack was. Daniel thought that it was probably too much to hope that he hadn't got the message about this impromptu meeting. 

Sam smiled at Daniel. She hadn't failed to notice his bandaged hand earlier when he got into her car, but Daniel had managed to reassure her that it was nothing major. However, he could tell by her current expression that she was still worried about him, and that that worry didn't just stem from an injured hand.

With two minutes to go until 0830, the door to the briefing room was flung open, and Jack entered, looking a little out of breath, and more than a little rumpled. Daniel took a little perverse pleasure from the fact that Jack had obviously had to rush in order to be in time for the meeting.

"Made it!" Jack declared, grinning to the room at large. Then he caught Daniel's eye, and his expression switched from one of triumph to something distinctly more uncomfortable.

There was an awkward pause, and then Jack sat himself down next to Sam and Teal'c, leaving Daniel alone on the other side of the briefing table. This earned Daniel a surprised look from Sam, and a raised eyebrow from Teal'c, and suddenly he wished that the ground would open up and swallow him.

"Good morning, people." General Hammond had entered the briefing room from his office, sitting down immediately at the head of the table. If he was surprised by Daniel's isolation from the rest of his team he didn't show it, but instead turned to address Daniel directly.

"Doctor Jackson, before we begin, how is your hand?"

Daniel frowned slightly. He had been purposely keeping his hand below the level of the tabletop so Hammond wouldn't see it, but apparently the General already knew about it. Sam must have told him.

"It's fine, General. I just had a small accident with a bottle, that's all."

Hammond nodded. "I'm glad to hear it. Still, I'd like you to get it checked out by Doctor Fraiser later. Just to be sure."

Daniel's frown deepened. However, he didn't really have a choice. "No problem, sir," he acquiesced.

"Now," Hammond continued, addressing the whole team, " on to the situation on P3X-575. Don't worry," he added, upon seeing the uncertain looks on the faces of SG-1. "Nothing bad has happened. Quite the contrary, in fact. The inhabitants of P3X-575…"

"Rinnau," Daniel interjected quietly.

Hammond blinked once, but decided not to call Daniel on his interruption. "Yes, thank you, Doctor Jackson. The inhabitants of Rinnau were very impressed with you all. _Very_ impressed. I believe Administrator Archan called you 'a credit to your planet.' In fact, they were so impressed that they want to start trade negotiations straight away. A few hours ago I received a communication from the Administrator through the Stargate. He wants to arrange a meeting for today, and has particularly requested that SG-1 be present to handle the negotiations. I've read all your reports from yesterday, and I believe trading with these people will be extremely beneficial. Their medical advances alone warrant pursuing a relationship. The question is: what will they want in return?"

Carter spoke up. "As I said in my report, sir, while the Rinnau civilisation is very advanced in some ways, they are less so in others. Their scientists were particularly interested in what I could tell them about our mining techniques. Although they are extremely proficient at creating sophisticated machines, getting decent materials from which to construct them has proved difficult. I believe that knowledge of our ore refining techniques would be very appealing to them."

Hammond nodded. "Very good, Major. I am authorising you to impart the necessary information to them, as a prelude to negotiations. SG-1, you move out in one hour. Dismissed."

* * *

As Daniel headed towards his office to collect some necessary items, he considered SG-1's imminent mission. He had mixed feelings about it, to say the least. On the one hand, he knew that any relationship between Rinnau and Earth would be beneficial to both sides. And it would be interesting to revisit the planet. The Rinnau people had an extremely interesting culture, one that he had enjoyed discussing with Administrator Archan's assistant, Xanath. He had found the man to be very intelligent and friendly, and Daniel was looking forward to seeing him again. 

On the other hand, however, his hand was still painful, and the remnants of his headache had not been helped by the early morning briefing. And then, of course, going on a mission meant being stuck in close proximity to Jack for longer than he really wanted.

Still, Daniel supposed he didn't really have a choice in the matter. He had told the General that his hand was fine, and he couldn't exactly go to Hammond and say "sorry, General, but I can't really go on this mission because Colonel O'Neill has just declared his undying love for me and I'm uncomfortable being around him." The idea was preposterous.

It was no good, he was stuck with this mission whether he liked it or not. At least he would get to talk to Xanath again. That would be some comfort, at any rate.

He entered his office to the sound of the second ringing phone of the day. For a second Daniel was tempted to ignore it. His last phone call hadn't exactly made his day any easier. Then he grimaced. That was a childish reaction, and he knew it. Sighing, he grabbed the receiver.

"Daniel Jackson."

"Daniel, it's Janet. General Hammond tells me you've hurt your hand. I want you come down to the Infirmary and get it checked out before you go on your mission."

Daniel started to groan, then suppressed it. Trust General Hammond to make sure that Daniel didn't miss a trip to the Infirmary. He had had enough of Janet and her needles to last him a lifetime, but apparently Hammond had decided that it wasn't _quite_ enough yet.

"Okay, Janet. I'm on my way. See you in five minutes."

* * *

Hurrying along the corridors of the SGC towards the Gateroom, Daniel cursed his bad luck. Not only had Janet's summons meant that he hadn't had time to check he had everything he needed for the mission, but she had taken so long over her examination that he now had only three minutes to make it to the Gateroom before SG-1's scheduled departure time. Janet had not only insisted on removing his bandages and examining his injury in great detail, but she had also cross-questioned him on his general state of health, which was ridiculous considering he had had his monthly physical only the previous week. 

"How are you generally, Daniel?" Janet had asked.

"I'm fine," lied Daniel. His headache was rapidly reasserting itself, and he made a mental note to take a couple more aspirin before going through the Gate.

Janet looked at him critically. "Well, you look like you haven't slept in days," she said pointedly.

Daniel sighed. He couldn't put anything past Janet. "I didn't sleep well last night," he admitted. "But that was only because of my hand." It was only a partial lie. Daniel didn't think Janet needed to hear about his issues with a certain Colonel, and Daniel certainly wasn't about to tell her, in any case.

Janet relented, but still looked slightly dubious. "Okay, Daniel, I'm clearing you for duty, but only because General Hammond has stressed how important this mission is. And I'm imposing a time limit on you. I want you to report back after ten hours for a check-up. Ah, ah, ah," she said, as Daniel tried to protest. "The General may have given you his orders, but now I'm giving you mine. Ten hours, not a second more."

Knowing he was defeated, Daniel nodded.

"And don't think you can get away with conveniently 'forgetting'," added Janet suddenly. "Because I will be informing Colonel O'Neill _and _Major Carter about your time limit, just to make sure."

"Fine," said Daniel shortly. "Can I go now?"

"Yes, you can go," replied Janet. Then she smiled. "And Daniel? Stay safe."

Daniel frowned as he hurried along. He knew Janet meant well, but she had now managed to make him late for the mission. He didn't even have time to take those aspirin he had promised himself.

With thirty seconds to go, he skidded into the Gateroom to find Jack, Sam, and Teal'c all waiting for him on the ramp.

"Nice of you to join us, Daniel," snapped Jack. "Now, if you haven't got anything more important to do, do you think we could get this show on the road?"

Daniel frowned again. What had he done now? He wasn't actually late, so there was no reason for Jack to be quite that pissed at him. He shrugged. Jack had obviously decided that since Daniel hadn't made a snap decision about their relationship, he was going to revert to his previous method of dealing with the problem – treating Daniel like dirt.

Still frowning, Daniel followed the other members of SG-1 up the ramp towards the shimmering wormhole. When this mission was done, he was going to have to make a big effort to work out what he wanted.

* * *

Emerging from the event horizon on Rinnau, Daniel surveyed the crowd of people that had gathered to greet SG-1. Administrator Archan and his assistant, Xanath, were both there, along with what looked like the most important scientists and diplomats from the government. There were also, Daniel noticed uncomfortably, a significant number of soldiers, something they hadn't seen much of on their previous visit. 

The Colonel and Major Carter had immediately stepped forward to exchange pleasantries, while Teal'c moved to stand behind them, looking impressive and imposing. Daniel directed his gaze towards Xanath and smiled at him, hoping that they could renew their conversation on the finer points of Rinnau religion.

However, instead of a returned smile, all Daniel received from Xanath was a distinctly uncomfortable look, before his gaze slid away to watch Jack and Sam. Alarm bells started ringing in Daniel's head, a sixth sense born of many less-than-happy missions through the Stargate, and he immediately started to move towards Jack, intent on warning him.

But it was too late. As soon as Daniel's movement was noted, a sign from Administrator Archan had all the members of SG-1 surrounded by the soldiers Daniel had noticed earlier.

"Hey, what's going on?" Jack protested vehemently. But he got no further than that. At another sign from the Administrator, three of the soldiers took out devices that looked suspiciously like tazers and placed them against the necks of Jack, Sam, and Teal'c. There was brief crackle of electricity, and then all three shuddered once, before slumping to the ground. Daniel had just time to see Jack's head roll back, his eyes closed, before he felt one of the devices being placed against his own neck.

Then there was blackness.

* * *

Jack sat in the darkness and tried to focus on his problem. Which was that he was sat in darkness in a six-foot by six-foot room with no idea as to why he was here and what the Rinnau were planning for him. 

Right, problem focused upon. Now, how to solve it? Jack decided to tackle the most immediate issue first, which was escape from his cell. The whys and wherefores of his capture could wait until later.

Unfortunately, it would take a Harry Houdini to escape from this room. Jack knew this because, despite the darkness, he had spent the hours since awakening from his unconsciousness inspecting the walls with his hands, and hadn't been able to find a single crack or weakness. There didn't even appear to be a door, although Jack was sure there was one, somewhere.

His only companion in this pitch-blackness was a small, blinking red light somewhere up near where Jack assumed the ceiling was. He had no doubt that the red light signified a infrared surveillance camera of some kind, and that whoever was watching it must have had a good laugh at his pathetic attempts at escape.

The presence of the camera negated even the most simple of escape plans – namely, jump the guard when he came through the door, wherever that might be. Anyone entering the cell would certainly be forewarned about any offensive position Jack might adopt.

Right, so apparently escape wasn't going to be such an easy problem to solve. Which left him to ponder the reasons for SG-1's capture. It was either that, or worry about Daniel.

Ah, Daniel. Now there was an issue about which he could definitely do nothing, and on which he could waste valuable mental energy. Perfect.

Jack regretted snapping at Daniel in the Gateroom earlier. But he had been frustrated – both with Daniel's lack of communication, and his own inability to remedy the situation.

But getting pissy with Daniel wasn't going to help matters. Jack had realised that as soon as the words had left his mouth, Daniel's expression telling him everything he needed to know about the effect his comment had had. Jack could have kicked himself. Convincing Daniel that he was sorry and that he had only been doing what he thought was right was going to be hard enough without him shooting his mouth off at any given opportunity.

And now, of course, he couldn't apologise to Daniel because he was locked up in this cell with no way of escape, with Daniel in a presumably similar situation. The only glimmer of light on the horizon was that it must be way past the ten-hour check-in specified by Doctor Fraiser. And when there was no response to any attempted communication by Hammond, the General would hopefully mobilise half the SGC to come look for them.

The slightest noise alerted Jack that something was about to happen. Seconds later a section of the wall opposite where he was sitting slid up. The light that flooded in was dazzling, and Jack squeezed his eyes shut while he tried to adjust. Unfortunately, that meant he had no defence when he was suddenly hauled to his feet and dragged from the room.

Lashing out, he tried to extricate himself from his captors, but all that earned him was a punch in the gut, followed by a couple of swift kicks to his ribs. Wheezing, he lay on the floor, trying desperately to drag some air into his lungs. As he did so he became aware that someone was crouched down next to him. Cracking his eyes open slightly, he could just make out the silhouette of a man wearing a vaguely military-looking uniform.

"Try that again and it will be the worse for you." The words were uttered in a vicious whisper, and before Jack had a chance to respond they were followed by an equally vicious kick to his head. Seeing stars, Jack could only hang limply as he was dragged away.

* * *

When he came to his senses, Jack found himself strapped to a table in a room that looked disturbingly like a science lab. Moving his head slightly, he could feel that he had electrical nodes attached to his scalp, and by squinting out of the corner of his eye he could see various instruments hovering above and behind him. Furiously, he tried to rise from the table, but he was secured so firmly that he could barely move his arms or legs more than half-an-inch. 

"Ah, the subject is awake." This voice was different to the one outside his prison cell, but it was no less menacing.

"This subject has a name," Jack growled.

"Ah, yes, Colonel Jack O'Neill," agreed the voice. "Leader of SG-1, flagship team of the SGC of planet Earth. A brilliant military mind. One that will be very useful to us."

Jack tried to keep his face expressionless, tried to give nothing away. But he couldn't help a flutter of fear at the voice's words. So his mind was going to be very useful, was it? Jack could only imagine what was meant by that, and actually he didn't particularly want to.

The voice chuckled, presumably at some flicker in Jack's expression that he had not been able to prevent. "Don't worry, Colonel, the procedure is painless. At least, I _think_ it is." The voice's tone clearly said that it didn't actually know if the procedure was painless or not, but that it really hoped it wasn't.

"What do you want from us?" Jack asked, hoping to stave off this 'procedure'.

"Information," replied the voice simply. "As I said, you have a brilliant military mind, full of data that could be very useful to us."

"Why didn't you just _ask_ us?" Jack grated. "We have no problem exchanging information with our allies."

There was a tutting noise. "Ah, but Colonel, we want far more information than you would have been willing to give us. Am I right in thinking that your government will only share certain things with off-worlders?"

Jack kept silent. What the voice said was true, but Jack wasn't going to admit it. Hell, there were things about Earth that even the Asgard and the Tok'ra didn't know, and they were Earth's closest allies. Having said that, Jack strongly suspected that the Asgard, at least, could find out anything they wanted about Earth at any time.

The voice chuckled again. It obviously knew it was right, even without any confirmation from Jack. Jack started to wish that the owner of the voice would make himself visible. It was very disconcerting to talk to someone he couldn't see.

"Since you won't give us the information we desire voluntarily, Colonel, we have developed other ways of getting it. Namely, extracting it directly from your brain. What we get from you could give us some great tactical advantages."

"And the rest of my team? I'll make a deal with you – let them go and I'll give you any information you want." It was a desperate gambit, but it was the only one Jack had.

"Now, now, Colonel, you're hardly in a position to bargain," replied the voice. "And besides, the other members of your team have just as much to offer as you. Major Carter, now. Her head is just stuffed full of science and technological knowledge. I think we'll be getting a little more from her than simple ore-refining techniques. And the Jaffa – Teal'c, I think his name is? His knowledge of the Goa'uld will give us intelligence on the most powerful race in the galaxy. Priceless information, I think you'll agree?"

Jack swallowed. "And Daniel?" he asked, trying not to betray any deeper emotion for the archaeologist than for his other teammates.

"Ah, yes, Doctor Jackson. He presents a bit of a dilemma. Undoubtedly he is a very clever man, but the information he holds in his head is hardly of use to us. Ancient languages and cultures? Not really necessary in the grand scheme of things. Therefore I think we shall just have a little fun with Doctor Jackson."

"Fun? What the hell does that mean?" The voice's idea of 'fun' didn't sound at all like it would be fun for Daniel.

"Ah, ah, ah, Colonel, I think the time for conversation is over now, don't you? If I chatted like this to all of my subjects I'd never get anywhere, would I?"

Jack felt hands on his head, checking that the nodes there were firmly in place. Then there was silence for a few moments, long enough that Jack started to wonder if his tormentor had left the room. But then he heard some muttered words, as the owner of the voice did something to one of his instruments.

Then, suddenly, a sharp pain lanced through his skull. Jack grunted at the extremity of it, but tried not to cry out.

"Well, well, it appears that there is some pain involved in the procedure, after all." The voice sounded positively gleeful about this development, and Jack once again strained at his bonds, trying to get at his captor.

Chuckling, the voice moved away, and seconds later Jack felt the pain run through his head again. Only this time it didn't die away, but grew progressively worse until it reached the point where Jack felt like his head was going to explode. He was still trying to keep silent, unwilling to show any weakness, but when the most vicious wave of pain thus far passed through his brain he couldn't help but let a sound escape from between his lips.

The last thing he heard as he slipped into unconsciousness was a scream of pain reverberating off the walls.

* * *

Xanath Hinryal, assistant to Administrator Archan of Rinnau, strode along a white corridor, flanked by two burly guards. Although every part of the corridor appeared the same, Xanath knew exactly where he was heading, and therefore showed not a flicker of doubt as he halted in front of a patch of wall that looked exactly the same as every other patch of wall. 

"Open it," he instructed the guard to his left.

The guard withdrew a small device from the pouch on his belt and aimed it at the wall. There was a faint 'swooshing' noise, and part of the wall slid up, revealing a small dark room behind it.

Xanath stepped into the aperture and gazed down at the figure huddled on the floor in the far corner. The man had his head turned away from the door and his face buried in his arms. Clearly the light from the corridor was bothering him.

Turning back to the guards, Xanath beckoned to one of them. "Turn that off," he ordered, gesturing to the camera mounted near the ceiling.

The guard looked doubtful. "Doctor Gaeling instructed that…" he began.

"I don't give a damn what Doctor Gaeling instructed!" barked Xanath. "I am the Administrator's assistant and my instructions come directly from him. Now, turn off the camera!"

The guard still looked dubious, but did as he was told. The red light signifying that the camera was in operation flickered and went out. Xanath held out his hand to the other guard, the one who had opened the door.

"Give me the door remote. Now!" he snapped, when the guard hesitated. "I am to interrogate the subject privately, and I shall need to get out once I'm done. I hope you don't think I should bang on the door for release like a common prisoner?"

The guard looked shamefaced and immediately handed over the remote.

"Thank you," said Xanath. "Now, leave me and return to your posts. Which, I might add, you will be very lucky to keep after these events. Rest assured that I will be informing Doctor Gaeling _and _the Administrator of your insubordination."

Now looking distinctly sick, the two guards hurried back up the corridor the way they had come. Xanath smiled grimly after them. Never mind their posts – he would be extremely lucky to keep _his_ after today.

Stepping into the cell, Xanath again looked down at the man on the floor. He hadn't looked up since the door had opened, but he was now clutching his head with his hands, as if Xanath's raised voice had caused him pain.

Moving out of range of the door, Xanath pressed a button on the remote, and the portal immediately slid closed, plunging both of them into darkness. From his pocket Xanath withdrew a small lamp and switched it on, casting a faint, bluish light over the room – enough to see by but not enough to cause any distress.

Crouching down, Xanath reached out and gently touched the other man on the shoulder. The man flinched, but then seemed to sense that the harsh corridor light was gone. Slowly, he raised his head, squinting at first but quickly becoming used to the small amount of light cast by Xanath's lamp.

"Colonel O'Neill. I am Xanath, the Administrator's assistant. Are you alright?"

"I know who you are," came the mumbled reply. "And no, I'm not alright." Suddenly O'Neill's left hand shot out towards Xanath, and the Rinnau had to jerk backwards to avoid the attack.

However, he needn't have bothered, as instead of trying to grab him the Colonel suddenly grimaced in pain, his hand retreating to clutch at his chest.

Xanath was impressed. Clearly this man was still capable of movement, and more importantly, planning and reasoning. Most people would have been physically and mentally destroyed after enduring the pain he had experienced.

"There is no need for that, Colonel," he said. "I am here to help you."

O'Neill muttered something, and Xanath caught the words "yeah, right" in between gasping breaths.

"It is true, Colonel," he said. "I do not agree with what is being done here, nor with the wider policies my government employs to, er…'gather information', shall we say."

O'Neill suddenly fixed him with a piercing stare. "And why should I believe you?" he asked. "Why couldn't you have warned us this was going to happen the last time we were here?"

"The Administrator is already suspicious of me," Xanath explained. "I have tried very hard to hide my disgust for the way we do things here, but I have not always been successful. I could not safely warn you of anything without arousing further suspicions."

"So you just let us walk into a trap?" rasped O'Neill. "Thanks all the same, but I don't think I want any help from someone with such dubious morals."

"You have no choice, Colonel," Xanath pointed out reasonably. "How else will you get out of here otherwise?"

O'Neill looked at him again, as if trying to assess the truth behind his words. "How do I know you're not just some ploy to extract information?"

"Colonel, as Doctor Gaeling has already demonstrated to you, we have far more efficient methods of extracting information than trying to fool you into it."

A murderous look suddenly appeared in O'Neill's eyes. "Gaeling, huh? So that's the name of the son-of-a-bitch responsible for my exploding head? I don't suppose this escape plan of yours involves a fatal 'accident' for the good doctor, does it?"

Xanath smiled bitterly. "I'm afraid not," he replied. Then something else O'Neill had said registered. "So you do believe I have an escape plan for you, then?" he enquired.

O'Neill smiled back just as bitterly. "It's like you said, Xanath. I don't really have much of a choice."

"I'm glad we agree, Colonel," said Xanath. "You may have been right in considering my morals as dubious previously, but I have risked everything to help you. Once the Administrator finds out what I have done, nowhere will be safe for me."

"What will you do? Earth can give you asylum, if you need it."

"I do not. I said nowhere will be _safe_. That does not mean I have nowhere to go. There are other people on Rinnau who think as I do. I will shelter with them, and together we will work out what to do about our government and its policies."

"What about the rest of my team?" said O'Neill suddenly. "I hope this plan of yours involves them escaping as well. Because you're mistaken if you think I'm going anywhere without them!"

Xanath placed his hand on O'Neill's shoulder again. "Relax, Colonel. They will escape alongside you. Although…" He paused, looking troubled.

"What?" said O'Neill immediately. "What is it? Are they alright?"

"I have not seen Major Carter or the Jaffa," admitted Xanath. "But I would imagine they are in a similar state to yourself. They both appear to have much inner strength."

"And Daniel?" asked the Colonel, with the voice of someone who was very much dreading the answer to his question.

"Doctor Jackson is somewhat…worse off than you and the others," said Xanath hesitantly. "I believe that Doctor Gaeling informed you that Doctor Jackson's knowledge, vast and impressive though it is, would not be of much use to our scientific or military divisions."

"Yeah, Gaeling said he was going to have 'fun' with Daniel. What exactly does that mean, Xanath?" O'Neill's voice now held an edge of menace, as if he was struggling to hold on to his temper.

"I do not know what it means in terms of his mental state," confessed Xanath. "But I have seen Doctor Jackson, and he is in a bad way physically. He has an injured leg and ribs, and he is currently unconscious. Don't worry," he added hastily, as O'Neill's face turned to thunder. "We won't leave him behind. But he will require significant medical assistance when he returns home."

O'Neill visibly reigned in his temper. "He'd better be okay," he growled, and Xanath flinched slightly at the unspoken threat behind the words. Then the Colonel appeared to turn his mind to more immediate matters.

"So, what exactly does this plan of yours involve, anyway?"

* * *

Lying on a stretcher, Jack cracked one eye open slightly to check on their progress. Unfortunately, the only thing he could see from this position was the impassive face of the guard carrying the bottom end of his conveyance. 

Xanath's plan was simple. He had had O'Neill and the rest of SG-1 removed from Doctor Gaeling's facility on the pretence that they were being taken to another laboratory for further tests. To Jack, it sounded like the flimsiest plan ever conceived, but he had agreed to put himself in Xanath's hands, and that's what he was doing.

However, he hated the inaction, the inability to contribute anything. He was completely at Xanath's mercy, and if the man changed his mind Jack and his team would be sunk. Xanath had assured him that everything would be fine, but despite his help Jack still didn't trust the man as far as he could throw him, and wouldn't until he was safely back on Earth. And perhaps not even then.

It didn't help that, in order for Xanath's plan to work, he had had to recruit eight guards to carry the stretchers SG-1 were laid on. Xanath claimed all of these guards were loyal to him, but for Jack it was just another element of the plan that could go wrong. What if one of the guards decided to betray them? The convoy had already been stopped twice by other guards, and that was before they had even reached the vehicle that would take them to the Stargate. Only Xanath's authority had prevented the guards from calling Doctor Gaeling and checking the movement orders. It didn't help that Jack was sure that the guards would probably call Gaeling anyway after they had gone past. If that was the case, then their escape would be a very close thing indeed.

However, they made it to the vehicle without being challenged, and the stretchers carrying SG-1 were loaded into the back of it. Xanath climbed into the front of the vehicle with two of his guards, while the other six turned and disappeared back towards the science facility.

As soon as he felt the vehicle start to move, Jack swung his legs over the side of the stretcher and sat up, grimacing as pain shot through his ribs, which he strongly suspected were broken, or at the very least cracked.

"Carter? Teal'c?" he whispered hoarsely into the darkness.

"Yes, sir."

"I am here, O'Neill."

"How are you both doing?"

"Not great, sir, but I'll be alright," came the reply from Carter. Peering across the dark interior of the vehicle, Jack could make out that she was cradling her left wrist, but otherwise looked okay.

"I am likewise in pain, O'Neill, but I will survive. My symbiote is already working to repair the damage."

"Glad to hear that Junior is doing his job, Teal'c. Carter, how's Daniel?" Jack tried not to let his voice falter over the question.

There was movement as Sam crossed over to Daniel's stretcher. There was a pause. "He's still unconscious, sir," she said finally. "And he appears to have a broken leg and some bruising around the ribs. More than that I can't tell."

"Yeah, that matches what Xanath told me," Jack muttered. "Well, I guess Fraiser's going to have her work cut out for her when we get back," he said a little more loudly, trying to force some lightness into his tone, but aware he was failing miserably.

"Yes, sir," replied Carter.

"Indeed," intoned Teal'c.

The slowing down of the vehicle alerted them they were drawing near to the Stargate. Carter hurriedly moved back to her stretcher, and all three of them lay down again. Moments later the vehicle came to a halt, and the doors were flung open.

"Colonel O'Neill?" came Xanath's urgent voice.

"Still here, Xanath," replied Jack dryly. "Not like there's anywhere else we could be."

"It is safe for you to come out unassisted," said Xanath, ignoring Jack's sarcasm. "No one else is here, but we must hurry. I strongly suspect that Doctor Gaeling and Administrator Archan will have been alerted to my treachery by now. They are probably already on their way here."

Jack scrambled out of the vehicle, wincing as his battered ribs protested at the movement. Carter and Teal'c followed him, while Xanath's two remaining guards jumped into the vehicle and emerged carrying Daniel's stretcher between them. As they manoeuvred it over to the platform in front of the Stargate, Jack gestured at Carter to dial home, before turning back to Xanath.

"Well, Xanath, thanks for all your help. Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Jack still had his doubts about the man, but he didn't want to see him punished for his betrayal.

Xanath smiled. "Thank you, Colonel O'Neill, but as I said before, I have places I can go. In fact, I am going into hiding as soon as you have left. These two guards will accompany me, and the six I left back at the facility have been instructed to gather up some of my more necessary belongings and meet me at my safe house. I will be fine."

"Well, thanks again. And good luck." Jack stuck out his hand, and Xanath shook it. Then he placed a device in Jack's other hand. Looking down, Jack saw it was a GDO, something he hadn't even considered in their flight from the facility.

"I'm sorry, Colonel, but this was all I could retrieve of your belongings. Your weapons are securely locked up, but this was in one of Doctor Gaeling's laboratories, awaiting testing."

"Thank you. It's actually the most important piece of kit we have," replied Jack. "It allows us to exit the Gate on Earth safely," he explained, when Xanath looked confused.

"Ah," said Xanath, as understanding dawned. "In that case, Colonel, you are very lucky. Doctor Gaeling normally likes to take things like this to pieces as soon as he gets his hands on them. Evidently, examining your minds was more interesting to him this time."

Jack grimaced. "I could have done with a little less mind examination, personally," he said.

Then, as the wormhole engaged, sending out its familiar wave of light, Jack turned towards the Stargate. "Good-bye, Xanath," he called over his shoulder. "And thank you."

Xanath watched as, between them, Colonel O'Neill and Teal'c lifted the stretcher carrying Doctor Jackson, both grimacing with pain at the effort. After a quick glance to check they were okay, Major Carter walked into the shimmering surface of the wormhole, followed by the others. Seconds later, the wormhole disengaged, and the Stargate was once more nothing but a ring of stone.

Xanath turned to his two guards. "I think it's time we left this place," he said quietly. "We have somewhere else we need to be."

* * *

Deep in distracting paperwork, General Hammond was interrupted by the sound of the warning klaxons going off, followed by an announcement over the internal loudspeakers.

"Unscheduled Offworld Activation!"

Throwing his pen on to the desk, the General rose to his feet and hurried towards the control room.

He arrived just in time to see the Iris slide shut, a precaution against possible enemy attack. The airman sitting in front of the dialling computer turned as Hammond moved to stand behind him.

"There's an incoming signal, sir," he said.

Hammond held his breath until the airman's next words caused him to expel it in a rush.

"It's SG-1, sir."

_Finally_, Hammond thought. SG-1 were nearly forty-eight hours overdue, and all attempts to contact them had been frustrated. "Open the Iris!" he barked at the equally relieved-looking airman.

Seconds later, Major Carter came through the now unshielded event horizon. She stumbled a little as she landed on the ramp, and went down on one knee. After her came Teal'c and Colonel O'Neill, carrying between them what looked like a stretcher. Hammond could see a still figure stretched out on the contraption.

Once out of range of the Stargate, the Colonel and Teal'c set the stretcher down on the ramp next to Carter. Then O'Neill sank down next to it, obviously at the limits of his endurance. Teal'c remained standing, although it was clear that it was taking a considerable effort for him to do so.

Hammond reached out and snatched at the phone standing on the desk next to the dialling computer.

"This is General Hammond. Send a medical team to the Gateroom, right now!"

* * *

Jack lay on a bed in the Infirmary, watching as a nurse put a cast on Carter's wrist. Sam looked terrible, her skin pale, dark shadows under her eyes. But then again, Jack figured he probably looked just as bad. 

Doctor Fraiser had already examined him, subjecting him to x-rays right after Carter, and thereby determining that three of his ribs were indeed cracked. She had bound up his chest, and put some stitches in a cut over his right eye that he hadn't even been aware of.

Teal'c was sitting on the bed on the other side of Carter. He too had been examined by Janet, who had declared that she could do nothing for him that his symbiote wasn't already doing. For the first – and last – time in his life, Jack was actually feeling a little envious of Teal'c's hitchhiker. Despite the painkillers Janet had given him, his head was pounding, and he couldn't move without pain lancing through his ribs. Fraiser had restricted him to the Infirmary for the next three days, pending a re-examination, while she was allowing Teal'c to return to his own quarters, with nothing more than some strict instructions about Kel'no'reem. Jack didn't think that was at all fair.

Still, that injustice could only preoccupy his mind for a few moments, as his thoughts inevitably turned back to the curtained bed at the far end of the Infirmary, where Janet was now taking care of Daniel, aided by at least three other nurses.

Daniel still hadn't regained consciousness, a fact that was worrying Jack more with every passing second. What if Daniel didn't wake up? What if his brain was permanently damaged? What if…?

"Colonel?" said a voice, interrupting Jack's increasingly panicked thoughts. He turned his head to see General Hammond standing at the end of his bed.

"General Hammond. It's good to see you again, sir."

"Likewise, Colonel. We were a little worried there for a while."

"You're not the only one, General."

Hammond turned to Sam and Teal'c. "Major Carter, Teal'c, I am also happy to see you back with us."

"Thank you, sir," said Sam, smiling.

Teal'c inclined his head. "Thank you, General Hammond."

"And how is Doctor Jackson? He didn't look too good when you returned."

"He's not good, General." Doctor Fraiser had emerged from behind Daniel's protective curtain and was walking towards them. "His right leg is broken in two places, and there is significant bruising to the torso, although none of his ribs are broken. Apart from that he has numerous cuts and scratches, and the previous injury to his hand has become infected. I've got him on a cocktail of antibiotics and painkillers." She stopped and took a breath. "With medication and rest, all his physical injuries should heal with no problems."

Jack caught the word 'physical' and drew in a sharp breath. Janet darted a glance at him before continuing.

"His mental state, however, is an entirely different matter. Daniel is still unconscious, and I can see no physical reason for it. The brain scans I've taken show no abnormal swellings or lesions. I can only put his coma down to extreme mental stress." She took another breath. "Which means that I have no idea when he will wake up. Or even if he will wake up at all. The brain is still very much a mystery, General. It may be that Daniel has shut down in order to protect himself from some kind of trauma. He may not wake up until that trauma is perceived as being in the past. And who knows when that will be?"

Fraiser turned to Jack. "Colonel O'Neill, you said that Daniel may have undergone a different kind of procedure to the rest of you. One designed to do something other than extract information? Anything you can tell me about that would be helpful."

Jack's face twisted. "I can't tell you anything else, Doc," he muttered. "All I know is that Gaeling – the sadist at the facility where we were held – wanted to have some 'fun' with Daniel because his knowledge wasn't of any use to the Rinnau. Fun!" he spat abruptly. "If I ever get hold of Gaeling again I'll show him exactly what 'fun' is. I'll…"

"Doctor!" Hammond interrupted Jack before he could go too far. "I need someone to attend a mission debriefing. Obviously Colonel O'Neill and Doctor Jackson are in no fit state, but what about Major Carter and Teal'c?"

Fraiser considered. "I'll let them attend the debriefing, General," she said finally. "But they both need rest, so I'm restricting it to half-an-hour. The bare essentials only, General. I mean it!"

The General schooled his face into a look of surprise at being spoken to in such a way by the Doctor, but Jack could see a twinkle in his eye that said he was used to the pseudo-Nazi that Janet Fraiser could sometimes be.

"Half-an-hour, Doctor. I understand. Major Carter, Teal'c, if you'd care to accompany me to the briefing room?"

After they had left, Jack tried to sit up on his bed, intent on going to see how Daniel was. However, Janet was there immediately, pushing him gently back down into a horizontal position.

"I don't think so, Colonel. You need complete bed-rest for at least three days, to allow your ribs time to start the healing process." She followed Jack's gaze down to Daniel's obscured bed. "Don't worry, Colonel," she said gently. "We're doing everything we can for Daniel. Just concentrate on getting yourself better."

Jack watched as Janet hurried back to tend to Daniel. Concentrate on getting better? Yeah, right! Like he would be able to concentrate on anything except the unconscious man at the other end of the Infirmary. Jack suddenly decided that being confined to his bed was a very good thing. He was determined to be there when Daniel woke up, however long it took. And if that meant he had to fake a slow recovery, then so be it.

* * *

Several hours later, Jack was woken from an exhausted sleep by loud moans and cries coming from Daniel's bed. He tried to sit upright again, but collapsed back as his abused ribs gave a particularly vicious twinge. Turning his head, he opened his mouth to call for Fraiser, but shut it again when he saw her emerging from her office, having heard Daniel's cries for herself. She hurried past Jack's bed without looking at him, and disappeared behind Daniel's curtain. Ten minutes later, when Daniel's moans had died away to almost nothing, she reappeared, looking tired and more than a little upset. 

"Doc, what's the matter with him?" Jack asked as she passed his bed again.

Janet started slightly, obviously not having realised that Jack was awake. "He's having nightmares," she replied. "But he's still unconscious, so I can't wake him from them."

"Nightmares about what?"

"I don't know. He's not saying anything coherent, but he's clearly in great distress. There's no question that they're related to whatever happened to him on Rinnau. Whatever that Doctor Gaeling did to him has obviously stirred up some very bad memories."

After that, Daniel's nightmares woke Jack three or four times a night. Janet offered to move Jack to a private room so he could get a decent night's sleep, but Jack stubbornly refused to be moved. There was no way he was going to leave Daniel.

At the end of the third day after their return form Rinnau, Fraiser announced that she would let Jack leave the Infirmary the next morning, unless something untoward happened during the night.

_Something untoward?_ thought Jack bitterly. _Like what? My ribs cracking again of their own accord?_ For the first time in his life he actually didn't want to leave the Infirmary. He wanted to stay where he could keep an eye on Daniel. However, Janet hadn't bought his 'sick Colonel' routine, and had told him firmly that she didn't want him cluttering up one of her beds any more.

_Oh well, she can't stop me coming back as a visitor_. And Jack was determined to do just that. SG-1 was on downtime while they recovered, so Jack had no reason not to be at Daniel's bedside morning, noon, and night.

However, that night there was a development. Once again, Jack was awakened by Daniel calling out in his sleep. But this time there was no flurry of motion from the medical staff. From his bed Jack could see that Fraiser's office was dark and quiet, and that the duty-nurse had left her station.

Cursing, Jack propped himself up on his elbows. His ribs weren't quite as painful now, but they were still sore, and Jack gasped as they reminded him of this fact. Where the hell were Fraiser and the nurses? Shouldn't they be here?

"No, no, no, no, no." The cry split the air, and Jack's head jerked around towards Daniel's bed. Those were the first coherent words Daniel had spoken in his nightmares, and to Jack it seemed like a sign. Careless now of his aching torso, he levered himself out of bed, and shuffled down the Infirmary.

Throwing back the curtain around the bed, he was confronted by the sight of an obviously very distressed Daniel. The archaeologist was drenched in sweat, his head was thrashing from side to side, and his eyes were moving furiously under their lids, a sure sign that he was in the grip of an extreme nightmare.

"No, please don't. Please, please, please." The words were uttered with real terror behind them, and Jack reached down to grasp Daniel's shoulder, intent on trying to wake him up, however fruitless an action that might be.

However, before he could touch Daniel, the archaeologist uttered another loud "no!", his eyes flew open, and he sat bolt upright on the bed. Or, at least, he tried to. Halfway up, his battered body asserted its need to be flat, and he fell back, his face contorted with pain.

Jack could sympathise with that. His own injuries were clamouring for notice, but he ignored them all in the face of the fact that Daniel had finally woken up.

"Easy, Danny," he said softly. "It's okay. I'm here."

Daniel's eyes darted around the room for a few more seconds before finally coming to rest on Jack. "Jack?" he croaked, his parched lips and throat stumbling over the word.

"Yep, Danny, it's me. Welcome back to the land of the living."

"Colonel O'Neill?" Fraiser had finally arrived, and was standing at the end of Daniel's bed.

"Hello, Doc. Nice of you to join us." Jack didn't bother disguising the sarcasm in his voice, and Fraiser bowed her head slightly, accepting the reproof.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here. SG-7 have just returned from a mission with some minor injuries. I've left my staff to deal with them in the Gateroom." She moved up the side of Daniel's bed until she was standing opposite Jack. "Hi, Daniel," she said softly. "Do you know where you are?"

"In-Infirmary," stuttered Daniel, his throat still dry and aching.

"And do you know when your birthday is?"

Jack stepped back slightly as Janet continued her mental and physical examination. He tried not to let his joy at Daniel's apparent recovery overwhelm him. Daniel might appear to be fine now, but who knew when he could have some kind of relapse?

But Daniel was tough, Jack told himself. He had been through more pain and trauma in the last few years than most people went through in a lifetime, and he always bounced back. Why should this time be any different?

Jack's damaged ribs were protesting more vehemently with every passing moment, and since Fraiser showed no sign of finishing Daniel's examination any time soon, Jack decided he could allow himself to go back to bed. He flashed a quick grin at Daniel, who was wearing the stoic expression he got when Janet started poking and prodding him, and slipped out from between the curtains.

Limping back to his bed, he stretched out on top of the blankets, unable to prevent a groan of relief as his body finally found itself back on the horizontal. Janet might be a mini-Hitler sometimes when it came to medicine, but Jack had to admit that she was normally right in her assessments of required recuperation time. Jack strongly suspected that he had put back his own recovery thanks to this night's escapades.

As he lay there, Jack felt his eyes start to flutter closed. With a supreme effort he forced them open again. There was no way he was falling asleep now that Daniel had finally woken up. He needed to hear that Daniel was okay before he could get any rest…

Forty-five minutes later, Jack was awoken by pressure on his chest, followed by a violent flash of pain.

"Ow! What the hell?!"

"Sorry, Colonel." Janet was standing over him, prodding his bruised torso. She didn't look or sound the least bit contrite.

A few more seconds passed, and Fraiser finally left off torturing Jack's injuries. "Congratulations, Colonel," she said. "Your little jaunt has put new stress on your ribs. You'll be spending an extra two days in the Infirmary while the swelling goes down."

Jack couldn't resist a snide retort. "Well, if there'd actually been any medically trained staff around, I wouldn't have had to go on my 'little jaunt', would I?"

"I came as quickly as could, Colonel," replied Janet calmly. "Or would you have preferred me to leave SG-7 bleeding all over the Gateroom?" She jerked her head in the direction of the beds on the other side of Jack's.

Turning his head, Jack saw that the beds were occupied by the SG team in question. They all looked a bit beat-up, but in nowhere near as bad shape as SG-1 had been upon their return from Rinnau. Jack gave them a weak smile and a little wave. All four smiled back tolerantly. They knew they weren't the most important patients in the Infirmary and didn't begrudge it. Daniel Jackson was popular with all the members of the SGC.

Jack turned back to Janet. "Doc, right now I wouldn't care if you confined me to this place for the next month. Just tell me how Daniel is."

Janet smiled. "He's doing okay, Colonel," she replied. "I've done all the necessary assessments, and there doesn't appear to be any lasting brain damage. At this stage I would say that he'll make a full physical recovery."

Again, Jack picked up on Fraiser's use of the word 'physical'. "But…?" he asked suspiciously.

"But his mental state is a different matter," confirmed Janet. "On the surface he appears fine, if fragile. But if anyone asks him about what happened on Rinnau, or what he's been dreaming about these past few nights, he just clams up. He won't talk about it at all."

Jack grimaced. "Sounds like our Daniel," he said. "Never wanting to accept help, always keeping his problems inside."

Janet patted his shoulder. "We just have to give him time, Colonel. He'll open up eventually."

Daniel, however, wasn't showing any signs of wanting to open up any time soon. During the day, he was fine as long as people didn't mention anything about Rinnau. At night, he was dreaming less frequently now that he had come out of his coma, but both and he and Jack were still woken at least once a night by a nightmare. After just one night in the Infirmary with Daniel and his night terrors, SG-7 looked profoundly grateful as they were released by Doctor Fraiser. That didn't stop each of them stopping by Daniel's bed as they left to wish him luck and a speedy recovery. Daniel looked faintly bemused by the good wishes, and Jack had to shake his head and smile. Daniel might be popular, but most of the time he was completely unaware of it.

_A perspective that I haven't done much to rectify lately_, Jack thought suddenly, his smile fading.

Jack's extra two days elapsed, and Janet decided that he was finally well enough to be released. As he was sitting on the edge of his bed, listening to – or to be more accurate, _not_ listening to – Janet's final instructions about taking care of himself, Sam and Teal'c appeared at the door of the Infirmary.

"Carter, Teal'c, come on in. The Doc here is finally letting me go free, and I'm craving something other than hospital food."

"Actually, sir, that's why we're here," replied Sam. "Janet called us up and told us to take you out for a decent meal. She said something about you being tired of the 'disgusting gloop' they serve here."

Jack turned to look at Fraiser, his eyebrows raised.

Janet looked back at him, completely unperturbed. "Yes, Colonel, I know your opinions on our cuisine," she said. "I'll have you know that 'disgusting gloop' is full of vitamins and minerals, and if you actually ate it there's a distinct possibility that you'd actually recover quicker. Which means that you wouldn't have to spend so much time in the 'dragon's den'."

Jack's eyebrows shot up another centimetre. "How did you know about _that_?" he choked.

"Let's just say I have my sources," replied Janet.

Behind him, Jack heard a noise that sounded distinctly like Carter trying to smother a laugh. He made a mental note to have a pointed talk with her about the value of team loyalty at the earliest possible opportunity.

"O'Neill, where would you like to go to consume food?" asked Teal'c abruptly. He had remained silent throughout the entire exchange, but Jack just knew he was, in his own unique Jaffa way, smothering laughter too.

"Yeah, sir, where do you fancy?" piped up Carter. "How about O'Malley's?"

"Nope, the Commissary will be fine," replied Jack. Janet had strongly suggested he leave the base and rest at home, but Jack had just as strongly refused to leave the SGC…and Daniel. "I'm sticking around to make sure our pet archaeologist gets better properly."

This time, the eyebrows of Carter, Teal'c, and Janet all shot up. Jack figured he deserved their surprised reactions. After all, he hadn't exactly been Daniel's biggest fan over the past few months. _But all that is going to change_, he vowed silently.

"Commissary it is, sir," said Carter, the first to recover.

"Great, I'll see you there in ten minutes. I'm just going to say good-bye to my fellow prisoner," said Jack, gesturing towards Daniel's bed.

"Er, Colonel, he's actually asleep at the moment," pointed out Janet. "He may not be too responsive."

Jack's face fell, but then cleared. "Oh well, I'll go say it anyway. Don't worry," he added, before Janet could protest. "I won't wake him."

As Sam and Teal'c exited the Infirmary, Jack shuffled over Daniel's bed. The archaeologist looked lonely now, being the only remaining occupant of Janet's domain. Still, Jack guessed he was used to it. He spent enough time here, after all.

"Hey, Danny," he said quietly to the sleeping man. "How're you doing?" Casting a surreptitious look around to check he was alone, Jack reached out and gently swept a few strands of hair off Daniel's forehead. "So, Janet's finally letting me out of here. But don't worry, I'll be back. I promise. I've got a lot to make up for when it comes to you, Daniel, and I'm going to start right now."

* * *

True to his word, Jack spent the best part of every day by Daniel's bedside, keeping him company, keeping him entertained, and generally keeping him from becoming bored out of his mind. At night he slept in his regular sleeping quarters, Janet refusing to let him take up any of the valuable space in the Infirmary. But in the morning he reappeared as regular as clockwork, ready to amuse Daniel and get in Fraiser's way. 

At first, Jack had been surprised that Daniel wanted him around at all – not that the archaeologist could do much about it, being confined to a bed. Given the state of affairs between them before the 'Rinnau Incident', as he had taken to calling it, Jack had assumed that he was the last person Daniel would want to see.

However, Jack was apparently pretty much the _only_ person Daniel wanted to see. Sure, he looked forward to the daily visits from Sam and Teal'c, and even looked pleased to see General Hammond when he came by. But Jack was the only person he seemed happy to have around constantly.

And, much as he was happy to be back in Daniel's good-books, deep down Jack wasn't at all sure that this was a good thing. Doctor Fraiser let him hang around as much as he did because she hoped that Jack would be able to draw Daniel out with regard to his nightmares and their cause. And Jack himself spent a good part of every day wondering if Daniel's renewed friendliness was a sign that he had made up his mind about their relationship.

However, both Fraiser and Jack were becoming more and more unsatisfied with every passing day, since Daniel refused to mention either of the subjects they wanted him to talk about. When it came to his nightmares and his experiences on Rinnau, Daniel was still clamming up, simply maintaining a stubborn silence whenever anyone asked him about it.

Still, at least he knew he was being stubborn about that. At least he _knew_ that the problem existed, even if he didn't want to talk about it. But when it came to the situation between him and Jack, it was like he didn't even remember that there was a situation to be dealt with. He laughed, talked, and joked with Jack, almost as if he didn't recall he was supposed to be angry and confused about what was going on between them.

Not that Jack wanted Daniel to be angry and confused. On the contrary, he was very happy that Daniel wanted to be friends with him again. It was almost like old times, like their friendship used to be. But he was growing more and more frustrated with the lack of resolution, and was seriously considered asking Fraiser to recheck her scans to see if Daniel's brain, and more specifically his memory, had been affected by Doctor Gaeling's 'fun'.

Another three weeks passed, and almost a month to the day after SG-1's return from Rinnau Doctor Fraiser came to see Jack while he was sat by Daniel's bed. Daniel himself was taking a nap, his sleep patterns still erratic due to his nightmares, so Janet sat herself down opposite Jack and spoke quietly.

"I'm still worried about Daniel, Colonel," she said without preamble. "It's been nearly a month and he still won't talk to anyone about Rinnau. But it's reached the point where I can't really keep him in the Infirmary any more. His physical injuries no longer need constant supervision, and he's clearly not going to open up to anyone around here. I think we need to consider other options."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "I hope you're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting, Doc," he said dangerously. "Daniel hates shrinks, you know that. He won't take kindly to being psychoanalysed again."

"Actually, Colonel, that's not what I had in mind at all," said Fraiser. I'm well aware of Doctor Jackson's, er…dislike of psychiatrists. I was thinking of something slightly more unusual, as a matter of fact."

"Such as?"

"I want to send him home with you for the rest of his recuperation, Colonel."

Jack was stunned. "Send him home with me?" he spluttered. "What on earth do you think _I_ can do? Don't get me wrong, Doc. I'm happy to take care of Daniel – more than happy, in fact. But I'm not exactly trained for this kind of thing."

"Precisely," replied Janet. "That's why you're right for the job. You may not have noticed, Colonel, but Daniel has shown a marked preference for your company these past few weeks. I'll admit I was surprised about that, considering the, er…disagreements you two have been having recently, but nevertheless, it is the case. I think Daniel is much more likely to open up to you than anyone else, particularly if we remove him from the Infirmary, which, although I hate to say it, isn't the most relaxing environment in the world."

* * *

Jack pulled his truck into the driveway, switched off the engine, and climbed out, intending to go round to the passenger side to give Daniel a hand. Daniel, however, didn't appear to want any help. He had already opened his own door and was awkwardly swinging his plaster-covered broken leg over the sill of the truck, followed by his crutches. 

"Oh crap!" There was a clatter as one of the crutches hit the tarmac of the driveway, and Jack quickly decided that perhaps Daniel did need his assistance after all.

Bending down, he retrieved the crutch, trying to ignore the ache in his ribs that was telling him that actually he shouldn't be bending down at all.

"Daniel, why don't you let me give you a hand?"

"I'm fine, Jack," retorted Daniel. "I'm not an…" Then he stopped.

"Not a what?"

"I was going to say 'I'm not an invalid', but I guess that would be a little inaccurate." Daniel smiled ruefully. "You'd think a person who's had as many broken bones as me would be able to cope with the inability to do things while recovering. But I'm still as bad a patient as I ever was."

"Join the club, Daniel. Being out of action drives me nuts."

"Yeah, and everyone else around you," Daniel muttered.

"I'm sorry, Daniel, I didn't quite catch that." Jack was glaring at him, but Daniel could see the twinkle in his eye that meant he wasn't really mad.

"Oh, nothing. Now, you were saying something about helping me?"

Between them they managed to get Daniel out of the car and successfully balanced on his crutches. Then Jack hurried ahead to unlock the front door, while Daniel followed more slowly, still getting used to his new method of transport.

"And another thing," he complained. "You'd think I'd remember how to use crutches, considering the amount of times I've had to resort to them. Surely it should be like riding a bike, something you never forget. But I have relearn every time I get a new pair. I guess the physical coordination needed to swing along on one leg isn't something my mind retains."

"Don't worry, it'll come back to you," replied Jack, as he once again ignored his ribs' suggestion that he remain upright, and bent down to the retrieve the pile of mail that had accumulated during the past month. "And besides, who says you need to relearn? You, Dannyboy, are going to remain on the couch at all times. I'll be doing all the 'swinging around' that's needed."

"Well, I'm hardly going to complain about that," said Daniel. "Who wouldn't want to be waited on hand and foot by a handsome Air Force Colonel?"

Swamped by mail, Jack could only gape as Daniel limped past him, heading for the living room. Had he heard that correctly? Had Daniel just called him 'handsome'? Somewhere in his brain fireworks were going off as his feelings for Daniel celebrated their victory. However, Jack quickly chucked some metaphorical water over them. He was jumping to conclusions. Daniel probably didn't realise what he'd said. Slip of the tongue, that was all.

Following the other man into the living room, Jack dumped the pile of mail on the table and turned to look at Daniel, who had already got himself ensconced on the couch, with the crutches leaning on the arm next to him.

Truth be told, he was still a little surprised that Daniel had agreed to come home with him at all. Sure, they had been getting on great while in the Infirmary, but Jack hadn't been at all sure that Daniel would really want to be stuck in a house with only him for company. However, not only was Daniel not bothered, he was apparently looking forward to it, if his previous comment was anything to go by. Maybe they were getting somewhere after all.

"You know, Jack, this couch really is quite comfortable. I think I'm going to enjoy being restricted to it."

"You have sat on it before," Jack pointed out.

"Yeah, but not for a while," Daniel replied. Then he paused. "We used to hang out together a lot, didn't we?" he said quietly. "I miss that."

Jack smiled. "So do I, Daniel. So do I. What do you say we try and fix that? It's not like we've got anything else to do this week, after all."

Daniel smiled back. "Absolutely, Jack. It's a date."

* * *

The next five days passed away peacefully enough, with Daniel propped up on the couch reading books on Egyptology, spiritualism in Native American cultures, and obscure dialects of the Mesopotamian languages. Jack, meanwhile, alternately watched hockey, brought Daniel more coffee, and completed the less strenuous chores around the house that he had been putting off. 

Unfortunately, for Jack it was a little too peaceful. After the camaraderie of the month in the Infirmary, and the flirtatious comments of their first day at home, Daniel had reverted back to full introspective mode. He accepted the coffee Jack brought him, answered questions when they were asked, and occasionally engaged in conversation, but only if it was about something he was interested in. The rest of the time he sat with his nose in a book, acting to all intents and purposes as if Jack didn't exist. Apparently he still wasn't quite ready to 'hang out' with Jack properly.

Jack was finding all this a little – no, make that a _lot_ – frustrating. He had thought that maybe Daniel was finally thawing out on the subject of their relationship, but apparently Daniel's previous brief flirting was nothing more than an aberration. Jack still didn't have a clue about where he stood, and it was driving him nuts.

And to top it all off, Daniel still wasn't opening up about the contents of his dreams. Doctor Fraiser had instructed Jack to call her every day with any developments. However, as yet Jack had no developments to report, and he was becoming increasingly worried about Daniel's state of mind. Because, while the days were peaceful enough, the nights were still punctuated by Daniel calling out in his sleep and jerking awake in a panic. If anything, the nightmares seemed to be getting worse again. And yet, Daniel still didn't want to talk about them, and Jack was starting to seriously consider the possibility that Daniel's mind might have been more affected by his experiences on Rinnau than Janet had thought.

Day six arrived, and Jack dutifully made his call to Fraiser, one that was over in under five minutes. Janet had encouraged Jack to be patient, to give Daniel time, but Jack was beginning to wonder just how much time Daniel was going to need. Not that it mattered how long it took. Jack cared about Daniel too much to force the issue, and he intended to prove to Daniel that he was here for him, no matter what. But surely it couldn't be good for Daniel to keep all that trauma locked up inside, no matter how painful or stressful it might be to talk about it.

Hanging up the phone, Jack sighed. Standing up, he stretched, pleased to feel only a very slight twinge in his ribs. At least one of them was getting better properly. It wouldn't be much longer before he could go back to active duty.

Not that he was going to. Not without Daniel. SG-1 just wouldn't be the same without its brilliant archaeologist. Jack shivered when he thought just how close his team had come to losing Daniel. And if Daniel had left, then he, Jack, would have been responsible. He would have driven away the most brilliant mind the SGC possessed simply to satisfy his own selfish, cowardly needs. Daniel was right in that respect. Jack had been thinking totally about himself, and in the process he had hurt Daniel deeply.

Jack shivered again, and then shook his head violently, trying to chase away his melancholy thoughts. Okay, so Daniel wasn't talking to him much at the moment, but he was still here, wasn't he? He hadn't cut Jack out of his life, hadn't refused to come home with him. That had to count for something, right?

Exiting the den, Jack crossed to the living room. Daniel probably needed a caffeine top-up by now. If all Jack could do at the moment was keep Daniel supplied with coffee and books, then that was the role he would accept.

Daniel was in his customary place on the couch, an empty coffee cup at his elbow, and his nose stuck in yet another book. Craning his head, Jack could see that the title of the book was 'The Horus Cult in the New Kingdom: Representations of Divinity'. Jack smiled. He recognised that book. It had been sitting on his own bookshelf ever since Daniel had left it at his place over two years ago. Daniel must be getting desperate if he was reading a book he didn't even remember having lost.

"More coffee, Daniel?"

"Hmmm…"

Jack chose to interpret that as a 'yes', and picked up the empty cup from the table.

"Do you want something to eat?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Whatcha reading?"

"A book."

"What's it about?"

Finally, Daniel looked at him, but it wasn't a happy look "Something you wouldn't care a jot about," he snapped. "Now, can you just leave me alone, please. Go look up hockey scores on the Internet or something."

Abruptly, Jack's own temper snapped. "Fine," he retorted. "I'll leave you alone. You can get your own coffee from now on, see if I care." Turning, he stomped towards the door, intent on leaving Daniel very, very alone. But then he stopped and swung back round. "What is it with you, Daniel? I try to be nice to you, and all I get is either a polite dismissal, or my head bitten off. One minute you're all chummy, the next you're completely ignoring me. Look, I know I was crummy to you, but I'm trying to make it right, and you're blowing so hot and cold I don't even know what season it is any more! I don't deserve this, Daniel."

"Jack, I…"

"Oh, forget it," Jack interrupted. "You want me to leave you alone? Well, that's just fine." This time he made it to the door without looking back, and Daniel heard the door to the den slam with such force he was surprised that it didn't fall off its hinges.

Frustrated, Daniel threw his book across the room, where it hit the wall and bounced back into the wastepaper basket. Daniel didn't notice. He was too busy thinking about Jack's angry reaction. He knew he deserved it. He had been blowing hot and cold. He hadn't been fair to Jack, who wanted answers and still hadn't got them.

Moodily, Daniel stared into the fire. He finally had the answers Jack wanted, but he was afraid to give them to Jack in case the situation backfired on him. And there was no question that it could backfire horrendously. Daniel knew that, but he didn't know what to do about it.

Watching the flickering of the flames, Daniel felt his eyes start to close. His interrupted sleep over the past month meant that he was constantly tired, and yet he continually tried to fight it, knowing that he would just have another nightmare if he fell asleep.

And that was another thing he needed to talk to Jack about – the nightmares. He was well aware that Doctor Fraiser had set Jack up as some kind of pseudo-psychologist, and that being together in Jack's home was supposed to help Daniel open up to him.

And Daniel did want to open up to Jack. He wanted to talk to him, but he hadn't found the right moment. It was just another dimension to what was fast becoming an extremely messy situation. Everything was knotted together in a big tangle, and Daniel wasn't quite sure how to sort it out.

It was no good – he couldn't keep his eyes open. He was going to have to face his nightmares again whether he liked it or not. Lulled by the dancing light of the fire, and let down by the interruption in his caffeine supply, Daniel fell asleep.

* * *

"Daniel, wake up. Daniel. Daniel!" 

"No, wait. Please, no. NO!" With a jerk Daniel finally woke up, his gaze flickering around the room until it eventually focused on Jack's very worried face, hovering about a foot above his own.

"Ssh, Danny. It's okay."

Daniel grimaced and then groaned, realising just how stiff and achy he felt. Falling asleep on the couch was definitely not the way to go.

"Another nightmare, huh?" Jack asked, still looking worried.

Daniel's grimace intensified and he shifted on the couch, trying to sit up. "I think that's probably the understatement of the year," he muttered, as Jack grabbed a cushion and shoved behind his back for support.

"That bad, huh?"

"Yep," agreed Daniel. "Actually, it was the worst yet," he suddenly admitted.

"Care to share?" asked Jack nonchalantly.

But Daniel wasn't fooled. He could tell that Jack was desperate to get him to open up, to help him, and abruptly he decided that perhaps now was finally the time to give Jack what he wanted. Heaven knew, keeping everything bottled up inside wasn't helping.

"It was about you, actually," he said conversationally.

The hand patting the cushion behind his head stilled momentarily, and then went on with its arrangements.

"About me?" enquired Jack, in an equally normal tone of voice.

"It was like what happened when we were in the Gamekeeper's chairs," said Daniel.

"Huh?" questioned Jack eloquently, sounding confused by the sudden change in topic.

"What they did to me on…Rinnau," Daniel explained quietly. Suddenly he wasn't at all sure he could go through with this. He paused, staring into the now dying fire, trying to gather his courage.

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. Jack didn't say anything, but in that mute gesture of support Daniel suddenly found the strength he needed to continue.

"The Gamekeeper showed me my parents' death, and gave me the opportunity to try and change it," he said. "But no matter what I did, I couldn't prevent that stone from falling on them." He paused again, drawing a deep breath. "On Rinnau, they managed to drag up the same memory," he continued. "Along with every other bad memory I have. Sha're's death, my sarcophagus addiction, being locked in a padded cell by McKenzie – you name it, they found it. And it wasn't even like they were allowing me to try and alter events. At least the Gamekeeper thought he was doing us a favour, no matter how warped it turned out to be. The Rinnau were just doing it for their own vindictive, malicious pleasure, to see how far they could push me."

The hand on his shoulder squeezed slightly. Jack had perched himself on the arm of the couch behind Daniel, meaning that Daniel couldn't see his face – a fact for which Daniel was extremely grateful right at this moment.

"But then they obviously decided to add an extra dimension to proceedings. Maybe my own painful experiences weren't fun enough for them. They started dragging up all my memories of the times when something bad had happened to Sam, or Teal'c…or you. You know, I never quite realised how many times we've all been shot, or captured, or tortured. It really adds up when you're forced to remember them all."

Jack shifted slightly, and Daniel could feel the grip on his shoulder tightening with anger. "Daniel, I…"

"I think the Rinnau machine must have the ability to read emotions as well as memories," Daniel interrupted, before Jack could say anything properly. "Because there were definitely more memories of you than anyone else. I think the device must have been able to extrapolate that you and I are the closest out of everyone in SG-1, and it behaved accordingly."

Jack muttered something. Daniel didn't quite catch the words, but it sounded like something that the Rinnau would have found distinctly uncomplimentary.

"So, basically, my nightmares have been a mixture of all that, but they've definitely featured you more than anyone else. And that brings me to my confession."

"What confession?" Jack's voice was admirably level, but Daniel could detect the underlying fury that said that Jack could quite happily have torn each and every member of the Rinnau government limb from limb with his bare hands.

"The confession I need to make to you," Daniel replied. He took another deep breath. "I've kind of been…conducting an experiment. To see how I really feel about you."

Jack kept silent this time, clearly dreading the possible outcome of this 'experiment'.

"What you said to me, before all this stuff on Rinnau – well, it got me thinking. About how close we used to be, and how much I've missed you since we've…drifted apart."

Jack snorted softly, and muttered something that sounded like "yeah, right."

"So I decided that, if you wanted to try and make it up to me, I would let you," continued Daniel, ignoring Jack's comment. "I wanted to see if I could remember what it was like when we were friends. I wanted to remember how close we were, and find out if we could be that close again – or perhaps closer."

"And I realised that I really had missed you – a lot. More than a friend misses a friend. More than even I realised. Ironically, the nightmares even helped with that, horrible as they were. Dreaming about you getting shot at, or injured, or tortured every night only reinforced how much you mean to me. I didn't let you see it when you visited me during the day, but those nightmares really hurt, Jack. They reminded me of how frightened I had been for you when all those things actually happened to you. I'd forgotten all that."

Jack moved. He left his perch on the couch arm, and came around to kneel in front of Daniel so they were face-to-face. But where Daniel had expected to see a smile of happiness, he saw only a slight frown and more than a little confusion.

"So, why the cold shoulder for the last week, Daniel?"

Daniel felt his own face twist into a frown. "Oh, yeah, right. Well, you might not have noticed, but my nightmares have been getting worse. A lot worse."

Jack smiled, but it was without humour. "Like you said, Danny, understatement of the year. You've been shouting loud enough to bring the house down on us."

"Sorry," muttered Daniel

"Don't worry about it. This house is built solid. It could withstand an earthquake. But what I want to know is: what could be so much worse than seeing us…seeing me…get shot, maimed, or tortured?"

"How about seeing you die?" Daniel offered.

"But, Daniel, I haven't died," Jack pointed out.

"Yeah, well, apparently that doesn't matter to my warped little mind. It seems to be perfectly capable of making up scenarios where you die. Or recalling situations where you nearly died in real life, but where you actually die in my dreams."

"Oh, Daniel…"

"That part only started happening when I left the Infirmary and came here, funnily enough. I'd finally realised what it was I really wanted, so my mind took it upon itself to show me what could happen to you. You could die, and I'd be alone…again. That frightened me, Jack. It could so easily happen. So I took the coward's way out, and started shutting you out. Guess that makes me no better than you, huh?"

Jack winced at the reference to his previous behaviour, but then obviously decided he deserved the rebuke. "We're just a pair of idiots," he agreed. Then he leant over and gave Daniel a hug, before sitting back on his heels.

"So, where does this leave us?"

But Daniel ignored the question. He pouted. "Is that all I get – a hug?"

"Huh?"

"Well, given that I've just declared that I have feelings for you, I was expecting something a little more exciting."

"Oh."

"Jaa…ck."

Jack sighed, looking put out. "The things I do for love," he muttered, before suddenly smiling an incredibly wicked smile.

Daniel matched the smile with one of his own, and then crooked his finger at Jack, beckoning the other man closer. "Jack, come here."

"Okay, okay," Jack drawled, leaning back over Daniel.

When their mouths met it was just a light brushing of lips at first – almost chaste. But then Daniel's hand came up instantly – almost automatically – to curl around the back of Jack's neck, pulling him closer. The kiss became more insistent, and when Daniel felt Jack's tongue nudging at his lips, he parted them eagerly, desperate to be closer to Jack, to satisfy some deep need that, up until a few weeks ago, he hadn't even known he possessed.

As the two men explored each other's mouths with their tongues, their hands were busily mapping each other's bodies. Daniel hadn't thought that he could become aroused simply by feeling someone's hand running lightly down his side towards his hip, but that was rapidly becoming the case. And it was that, combined with his body's rather insistent demands for oxygen, that finally made Daniel pull back.

"Jack, wait."

There was a muffled groan from Jack, who, as soon as the kiss had ended, had busied himself exploring Daniel's neck and collarbone with his mouth.

Daniel revelled in the sensations for a few more seconds, before finally wrenching his brain back on track.

"Jack, please."

Finally, Jack drew back, glaring down at Daniel with a mixture of desire and annoyance.

"What? Don't tell me I was doing it wrong, because judging by the sounds you were making a minute ago, I was damn well doing it right!"

"It's not that. You were doing it right. Believe me, you were doing it very, _very_ right. It's just…well…" His gaze flicked down to where Jack's hand had come to rest on his hip, just above where his plaster cast started. "As much as I'd like to tear your clothes off, drag you to bed, and swallow your cock, all in the next five minutes, I'm not exactly in the best shape for it right now."

"I…uh…" Daniel's words had apparently scattered Jack's thoughts to the four winds. His pupils had dilated so much his eyes looked black, and a faint flush had appeared on his cheeks.

Daniel smirked. Part of him still couldn't believe he had the power to reduce Jack to utter speechlessness, but the other part of him was enjoying it very much.

With a visible effort, Jack pulled himself together. "You know, saying things like that isn't going to help your cause," he said breathlessly. "I'm gonna need a very cold shower in a minute."

"Sorry," replied Daniel, not sounding sorry at all. "If you like, I can try to keep my hands off you until I'm back in action. It'll be hard, but if it's for the greater good…" He sighed, adopting a martyred expression, but Jack could see the twinkle in his eye that meant he was trying not to laugh.

"Don't you dare," Jack warned. "I may not be able to have all of you yet, but at this point I'll take everything I can get."

Swooping down, he landed another kiss on Daniel, one that made the first kiss look like nothing more than a chaste peck. By the end of it Daniel felt like he was seeing stars. He also felt like he could do with his own cold shower. Unfortunately, the cast on his leg prevented that – he'd been restricted to sponge baths for weeks now. Daniel grimaced slightly, before Jack's resumed exploration of his neck distracted him. Why, why, why did broken legs take so long to heal?

* * *

Another week passed. Jack and Daniel spent the days entwined on the couch, kissing, and the nights entwined in bed, still kissing. Daniel was rapidly finding out that, when Jack said he was doing it right, he really _was_. The man's mouth was magic, and it took every ounce of willpower Daniel possessed not to just let go and let Jack have his wicked way with him, plaster cast notwithstanding. 

However, in some ways that plaster cast was helping Daniel hold on to his resolve, being a constant reminder that he was not nearly as mobile as he would like to be. But it was also proving to be an obstacle to even their couch-based activities. Daniel wouldn't have thought that a cast on his leg could have any effect on his ability to kiss, or be kissed. But its existence meant that he and Jack were having to find some pretty creative ways to entangle themselves with each other. And more than once it had made its presence felt by causing Daniel's leg to slide off the couch at the most inopportune moments. This normally elicited frustrated groans from Jack, and either a grimace of pain or a fit of giggles from Daniel, who was rapidly resorting to hysteria as the only was to keep his sanity.

Jack was still making his daily calls to Doctor Fraiser to update her on Daniel's progress. He had told her that Daniel had finally confessed the contents of his nightmares, and that he was doing better. Fraiser had warned him that the problem wouldn't simply disappear, and indeed, Daniel was still having the occasional bad dream. But there were definitely fewer of them now, and Jack told Janet not to worry – he was doing his best to make sure that Daniel stayed better.

After that the calls had pretty much taken on the form of begging sessions, with Jack badgering Janet to remove Daniel's cast as soon as possible. But Janet was immovable on the subject, refusing to even consider removing the cast until a full seven weeks had passed. Jack was starting to dread the look of hope in Daniel's eyes when he emerged from the den after hanging up – a look of hope he had to extinguish every day by telling Daniel that Fraiser was still saying 'no'.

It didn't help matters that, at the end of that week, Janet declared Jack fit enough to be allowed back on to the base. No active duty as yet, but his piles of paperwork were demanding some attention, and Jack no longer had any excuses for ignoring it. He tried to get it done as quickly as possible, but there was no getting away from the fact that he had to spend most of every day on the base, leaving Daniel alone.

For his part, Daniel found the next week incredibly frustrating. Not only was he still encumbered by his cast, but now that Jack was back at work he had lost the one thing capable of distracting him from it.

Still, he supposed there was one benefit to Jack being at work all day – Daniel could surprise him when he came home. Having long since re-mastered his crutches, Daniel could make sure he was lying in wait for Jack by the front door as soon as he heard the truck pull up. Then he could pounce on Jack and kiss him senseless the minute he stepped through the door. The only problem was that the crutches had a tendency to end up on the floor at some point during the kissing, which meant that Jack had to retrieve them when they were done – something that never failed to remind Daniel that he was still, essentially, an invalid.

* * *

"Honey, I'm home!" 

It was the Friday of the seventh week since SG-1's return from Rinnau, and Jack had managed to leave the base slightly earlier than every other day that week, having finally caught up with his paperwork. And what was more, he had news – news that he was sure Daniel was going to like.

"I'm in the kitchen, Jack," Daniel's voice floated back. "I'm making coffee – do you want some?"

"I was thinking of something a little stronger," replied Jack, entering the kitchen and moving up behind Daniel to wrap his arms around him. "We have something to celebrate."

"Oh?" Daniel twisted around in Jack's arms – no mean feat for someone with their leg in plaster – and shot Jack a quizzical look. "What are we celebrating?"

"Well…" said Jack slowly, determined to savour the moment. "I had a visit from Doc Fraiser today. She gave me some good news." He paused.

"Jaa…ck."

Jack smiled, enjoying the look of dawning hope on Daniel's face. "She wants you to drop by for a check-up on Monday," he continued. "And, providing everything is alright, she's going to remove your cast."

His smile widened to a triumphant grin as Daniel's face lit up and he punched the air with delight.

"Yes! Finally!"

"I thought that might make you happy…" began Jack, but he was cut off as Daniel suddenly kissed him, ferociously and more than a little desperately.

"You've got no idea how happy it makes me," said Daniel when the kiss ended, his voice taking on a husky edge that sent shivers up and down Jack's spine. "I believe I mentioned something about dragging you to bed and swallowing your cock?"

The shivers increased tenfold, and Jack couldn't prevent the moan that escaped from between his lips at Daniel's words. "Down, boy," he managed to say. "We still have another two days to get through, and it's going to be hard enough to survive them as it is."

* * *

Unfortunately, Jack's words were all too true. They did still have two days to get through, and it was torture for both of them. By Monday morning the two men were so jittery and impatient that they arrived at the Infirmary before even Doctor Fraiser, and were forced to wait until she showed up. Luckily, the Infirmary was free of wounded SGC personnel, so there was no one present to witness their frustration. 

Daniel was sitting on the end of the one of the beds, swinging his free leg so his foot tapped against the bed frame, and drumming his fingers on the blanket. Normally, Jack would have told him to cut it out, but in this instance he was far too preoccupied with pacing up and down the room like a caged lion to notice.

It was this atmosphere of impatience that Janet Fraiser walked into when she finally arrived twenty minutes later. Eyebrows raised, she surveyed the anxious Colonel and archaeologist as they both turned towards her expectantly.

"My, aren't you two eager," she commented.

Jack and Daniel glanced at each other, their own eyebrows shooting up. Surely they couldn't have just heard the innuendo that was dripping from Janet's voice? That would mean…

Janet saw the look and chuckled. "You two are as transparent as a pane of glass," she said, confirming their suspicions. "I haven't seen two people so horny since…well, _ever_, actually."

Two jaws dropped, and two strangled gasps filled the silence in the aftermath of Janet's pronouncement.

"Don't worry," said Janet, enjoying her position of power. "I won't say anything. 'Don't ask, don't tell', remember?" She looked at the two shocked men in front of her. "Did you really think you were going to be able to hide it from me, anyway?" she asked. "I'm your doctor, for heaven's sake!"

But there was still no reply, save for some rather inarticulate sounds from Colonel O'Neill, and Janet decided to take pity on the two men.

"Right, Daniel," she continued briskly. "Just let me fetch your file, and then I'll take you for a quick x-ray. After that, providing everything looks good, I'll remove that cast, and then you two can go away and do whatever it is you seem so anxious to do."

* * *

Daniel clambered out of Jack's truck, dragging his crutches behind him. True to her word, Janet had removed the cast, but she had also insisted that he keep the crutches for a few more days, while he got the strength back in his leg. She had made Daniel walk up and down the Infirmary a few times, and Daniel hadn't been able to hide the fact that his newly healed leg was still somewhat weak and wobbly. 

At that point, however, Daniel would have been willing to concede Janet just about anything, so he hadn't put up a fight. He had just grabbed the crutches and started towards the door, not even waiting to be dismissed. By the time Jack had finished receiving extra instructions from Fraiser, Daniel was waiting impatiently by the lift up to the surface.

And now, still too impatient to wait until Jack got out of the truck, he started up the front path, using the crutches as little as he dared, and pleased to find that he didn't need to put nearly as much weight on them as he had anticipated.

By the time he reached the front door Jack had caught up with him, and he moved aside to allow him access to the door so he could unlock it. Jack held the door open for Daniel to pass through, and then followed, pausing to lock it behind him.

As Jack turned away from the door, Daniel saw his opportunity. He launched himself at Jack, the crutches clattering to the floor, forgotten, and Jack suddenly found himself with an armful of very determined, very desperate, archaeologist.

Their lips met with enough force to bruise, and Jack felt like all the breath had been driven from his lungs. Strangely, though, he didn't seem to mind, and gave back as good as he got, kissing Daniel with all the pent up passion and frustration of the past two weeks.

Eventually, however, they had to come up for air. Drawing apart, they gazed into each other's eyes, Jack trying to suck in enough oxygen so he could make another assault on Daniel's mouth.

Daniel, however, recovered first, and he had other ideas.

"Bed, now," he growled, his voice instantly sending all of the blood in Jack's body in a southerly direction.

But just enough remained in his brain to allow it to function. "It's 11:30 in the morning, Daniel," he pointed out, thinking that at least one of them should try and be reasonable.

"So? How long have you been waiting for this, Jack?" Daniel's voice had taken on an even rougher tone, and what little blood remained in Jack's head rushed downwards.

Suddenly, Jack didn't care what time it was. "You make a good point," he agreed, and abruptly pushed away from the door, propelling Daniel in the direction of the bedroom.

The journey took longer than it should have, since neither Jack or Daniel could take their hands off the other, and each seemed determined to have the other naked by the time they reached the bedroom. For one second Jack wondered what any invading aliens, NID agents, or SGC members would think of the trail of clothing leading down his hallway. Then Daniel's mouth was on his again, and all rational thought ceased.

Finally they reached the bedroom, still kissing hungrily, the friction caused by their erect cocks rubbing together making Jack shiver and Daniel moan. Eventually, however, Daniel pulled back, a somewhat uncertain expression on his face.

Jack was immediately worried. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Are you having second thoughts? We don't have to do anything you don't want to, Danny." He felt his gut twist as he said the words, but he was determined not to push if Daniel wasn't sure.

But Daniel smiled, alleviating Jack's fears a little. "Are you kidding?" he exclaimed. "I don't think I've wanted anything more in my entire life, and that's saying something, considering the lives we lead. But I…er…have a confession."

Jack frowned. "Another one? I think you might need to see a priest, the number of confessions you make."

Daniel chuckled. "I think a priest might have a fit if he heard my confessions," he said. "Particularly this one. You see, part of the reason I took so long to make up my mind about us is because I…uh…I've never been with another man before," he finished in rush.

"What?"

"Yep, it's true. I may have been talking extremely dirty over the last couple of weeks, but that's all I know how to do – talk. Not really got a clue what I'm doing in the practical sense."

Jack smiled, a little smugly, Daniel thought. "Well, it's a good job you've got a good teacher," he said. "I might be a little rusty to start off with, but I'm sure I can teach you everything you need to know."

"And I'm definitely a quick study," Daniel assured him. "Although," he continued, with a wicked glint in his eye, "I think I might like to try some independent experimentation first. What do you say, teacher? Are you happy to let me try out a few theories on you?"

Jack leaned forward to give Daniel a quick kiss. "Experiment away," he said huskily. "I'm all for independent learning."

"Oh, good," replied Daniel. Then he unlocked his arms from around Jack's waist, and unexpectedly gave Jack a small shove backwards so he landed spread-eagled on the bed…

* * *

Some time later, Jack roused himself from his post-orgasm stupor to find that he was sprawled on top of Daniel, and that both of them were very sticky and messy. 

Tilting his head up, he looked straight into Daniel's eyes, which were watching him with the kind of stillness that only comes with absolute contentment.

"Hi," Jack said, his lips curving up in smile.

"Hi, yourself," replied Daniel, smiling in return.

For a few seconds the two men just grinned at each other, unable to quite believe what had just happened. Then Daniel stirred.

"So, that was…amazing," he said. Then he frowned. "No, I don't think 'amazing' is quite going to cut it," he mused. "But I can't think of another word. Twenty-five languages, and it was still…indescribable."

"How about mind-blowing," offered Jack. "Or wonderful. Or fantastic. Or incredible. Or…life-changing," he finished, turning serious. He reached up and kissed Daniel softly.

"I love you."

Daniel's smile grew soft. "I love you too, Jack."

* * *

At Daniel's first gasp, Jack's eyes flew open. Having shared a bed with Daniel for the past two weeks, he was now perfectly attuned to Daniel's still-recurring nightmares, and therefore instantly awoke whenever Daniel showed any signs that he was dreaming. 

But this time something was different. Daniel's gasps and moans were no less vehement than usual, but Jack thought he could detect a more positive note to them than previously.

"Jack…more…please."

Jack smiled. Apparently, Daniel was still dreaming about him, but now in an entirely different way than in his nightmares.

"Danny…hey, wake up."

"Wha…Jack?"

"You were dreaming."

"Yes, I know," said Daniel, a little grumpily. "And it was a good one, finally. Why did you have to wake me up?"

Jack smirked. "Well, it sounded like I might be missing out on something," he replied. "Can't blame a guy for wanting to participate, can you? And besides," he added, before Daniel could answer, "I thought you might prefer some hands-on practice to mental revision." Reaching down, he placed a hand on Daniel's cock, which was already swollen and hard.

Daniel moaned, and his eyes opened wide. "Well, I guess practice makes perfect," he gasped.

Jack nodded. "And I intend to make sure you practice _a_ _lot_."


End file.
